


Friends

by Broken_Record_3



Category: A Series of Unfortunate Events (TV), A Series of Unfortunate Events - Lemony Snicket, All the Wrong Questions - Lemony Snicket
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-23
Updated: 2020-06-24
Packaged: 2021-03-04 07:27:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24869872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Broken_Record_3/pseuds/Broken_Record_3
Summary: Three oneshots about snicketverse friendships because I miss my friends. I'll try to get them done soon.
Relationships: Moxie Mallahan & Lemony Snicket, Quigley Quagmire & Carmelita Spats
Comments: 4
Kudos: 17





	1. Lemony and Moxie

Some nights felt worse than other nights, and this was one of those nights. Moxie lay awake, shivering. She looked over to her window, which she had left open. The curtains, which were printed like newspapers, were flapping. A cold wind filled the room. 

There are a million other things to think about, she told herself. A million things that weren't her mom. It had been more than five years, she should have been over it. But no matter how many times she told herself not to, she kept thinking back to that day. The day that she would remember for the rest of her life. 

\-------------------------------------------------------------

“Moxie! Hurry up!” Mr. Mallahan called. 

“I’ll be right there Dad!” Moxie replied. She was putting on the tie she had gotten for her birthday 4 days prior. 

When she ran into the foyer, her mother was standing in the doorway with her suitcases piled around her. She was speaking to Moxie’s father, clearly trying to keep her voice down. 

“I’m telling you, don’t worry!” She whispered. 

Mr. Mallahan opened his mouth to reply but closed it when he saw Moxie. 

“Sweetie! Over here, I want to see how tall you are.” Her mother said, smiling. She pulled Moxie in for a hug. 

“Look at how tall you are! I can’t believe my little girl is 7 years old.” She said, kissing her daughter on the forehead. 

“When are you leaving, Mom?” Moxie asked. 

“Well, the taxi is outside. I just waited so I could say goodbye to you.” She replied, holding Moxie’s hand. 

“When will we be able to come?” Moxie asked. 

“Soon, sweetie. Very soon.” Mrs. Mallahan said, running her fingers through Moxie’s short hair. 

Moxie felt a tear roll down her cheek. She wiped it off her face and tried to look strong. 

“I have a little gift for you.” Her mother pulled something out of her pocket. 

“A piece of paper?” Moxie asked, grabbing the paper. 

As she read the paper, she noticed the words typed on it. 

“Moxie Mallahan,” She read, “The News. What’s this Mom?” 

“You're a proper journalist now Moxie.” She said, smiling. “Now, you should go to the kitchen and eat breakfast. I’ll be gone, but you’ll be full.” 

“Goodbye, Mom.” Moxie said, trying to hold back tears. 

“Not goodbye,” Her mother said, “See you soon.” 

\-------------------------------------------------------------

Moxie felt the tears run down her face. The wind was getting stronger, threatening to blow over a stack of papers on her desk. The noise it made, paired with how deep she was in her own thoughts, meant she didn't notice that her door had been opened. 

“Moxie?” Lemony asked, closing the door behind him. 

“Lemony? What are you doing?” She looked at the clock on her wall “It’s midnight! Do you ever sleep?” 

“Don’t freak out. Theodora kicked me out, and I thought I would sleep over at your house- er, lighthouse.” 

“Kicked you out? What did you do this time?” Moxie asked, sitting up in her bed. 

“That’s not important right now. Are you crying?” 

“I’m fine Snicket!” She responded, wiping her face. 

Lemony walked over to the window and closed the latch. He fiddled with it for a second, not quite sure how to do it. 

“We have a guest room downstairs. It used to be my Mom’s room.” Moxie tried not to cry at the mention of her mom. 

“I’d go, but I want to know if you’re alright. You do not look alright.” Lemony responded, sitting next to her on her bed. 

“I suppose I’m not alright, Snicket.” Moxie sighed, pulling her knees up to her chest. She was wearing her favourite pajamas, which were dotted with small bombinating beasts. 

“Well, what are you not alright about? People don’t tend to not be alright about nothing.” 

“There’s a lot I’m not alright about.” She replied. 

“Well, I’d like to hear it.” 

“Alright, Snicket. But I’m going back to bed after this.” 

“Sounds like a plan,” Lemony responded, taking his hat off and placing it on the bed next to him. 

“You know how I said I’m waiting for my mom to send for us? I know, deep down, she never will. Last year, I was reading a newspaper that came from the city, and I learned that her train got in a crash. She died, Snicket. I’m never going to get a letter from her.” Moxie was really crying now. Lemony passed her a handkerchief, which she used to dab at her eyes. 

“And my dad. He’s barely there anymore. I love him, but he’s not okay anymore. And I don’t want to disappoint him. I don’t think he’s strong enough for me to tell him.” 

“Tell him what?” 

“I-I’m-well, that's not the point right now. The point is, I’m not okay. I don’t know why I’m telling you this, I really shouldn't be.” 

“It’s okay,” Lemony said, patting her on the shoulder. 

“Thank you Lemony, that means a lot.” Moxie responded, putting her head on his shoulder. 

“Of course, you're my friend.” 

“I’ve never had a friend before.” Moxie said. 

“Well, you're a very good friend, Moxie.” 

“That’s good to know.” Moxie replied, smiling.


	2. Quigley and Carmelita

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Three oneshots about snicketverse friendships because I miss my friends. I'll try to get them done soon. (This chapter has some swears, if you don't like that kind of thing then skip this one.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, this is based on a John Mulaney bit. No, I'm not ashamed in the slightest.

The Salt & Paprika Diner had a certain atmosphere, best defined as “sad”. The floors were covered in stained carpet with tacky patterns, the lighting was far too dim in some places and far too bright in others with seemingly no in-between, and the staff looked like someone had just told them that their homes had been flooded. Carmelita Spats and Quigley Quagmire sat at a booth with a ripped seat, eating sub-par burgers and fries.

“This place sucks!” Carmelita lamented, picking at her meal with a knife. 

“Don’t blame me!” Quigley replied, “Nowhere else is open, and we were told to scram.” 

“Why did they tell us to leave?!” 

“We left ourselves, Carm. They were watching your least favourite movie, remember?” 

“The Sound of Music.” Carmelita mused, “Such a boring one. Why is it so long!?” 

Quigley didn’t hear her, as he was looking in the corner. 

“Carm,” Quigley said, poking her in the shoulder, “Carm. There’s a jukebox.” 

“So what?” Carmelita said, rubbing her shoulder. 

“How much money do you have?” 

“Seven bucks. Why?” 

Quigley had grabbed her arm and dragged her over to the jukebox. Carmelita protested but ultimately followed. 

“Three plays a dollar…” Quigley mumbled to himself, running his fingers over the song buttons. “Carm, pass the seven dollars.” 

“Why? I was gonna pay for our food, besides, I’m not in a crime mood today.” 

“This isn’t a crime. I’ll pay for the meal and I’ll pay you back. Just give me some money, alright?” 

“God Quigley, this feels like a mugging.” Carmelita lamented, passing over the coins. 

As Quigley began to press the numbers for the song, Carmelita began to smile. At the seventh press, Carmelita hit Quigley’s hand away. 

“Hold on,” Carmelita said, punching in one different song. 

As the two friends walked back to the table, they tried to stifle their laughter. As they slid into opposite sides of the booth, the current song faded out and Quigleys song began rather loudly. 

A collective groan made its way through the diner as “What’s New Pussycat” began over the speakers. 

“I forgot how terrible this song is.” Carmelita groaned, drinking up the last of her soda. 

“You realize that stuff isn’t alcoholic?” Quigley laughed. 

“Don’t remind me, map boy.” 

As the song faded out, the patrons looked rather relieved. That was, before it began all over again. 

“My goodness, I think I’m starting to regret this.” Carmelita lamented, eyeing a glass of beer on another table. 

“You are not getting underage drunk about this.” 

“Fiiiiiinnnneee!” 

As the two argued, something that took both of them out of whatever music-related misery they were in occurred. There was a man at a table with two annoying-looking children, who looked to be equally done with Quigley’s taste in music. 

“Oh my god…” Quigley laughed, pointing to the man. He was standing up, looking like he was about to pop a vein in his face. 

With one rather on-beat hit to the table, a wave of cutlery flew off the table. A spoon narrowly missed Carmelita’s head, while a stray fork came inches from Quigley’s hand. 

“HOLY SHIT!” Carmelita yelled, barely heard over the ruckus in the restaurant. The man was told to calm down and eventually left in a huff. 

Carmelita whispered something to Quigley, causing him to look relieved and laugh. As the seventh play of the song came to a close, the patrons looked like they were praying for the diner to blow up. But where What’s New Pussycat would have started, It’s Not Unusual came on instead. 

“I-I think some of them are crying,” Quigley whispered in a shocked voice. 

“Bitch, I’m crying!” Carmelita responded, wiping a tear off her face. 

“You are so dramatic.” 

“So what!” 

Quigley had to admit, the sound of anything that wasn’t What’s New Pussycat sounded downright magical. Heck, he would have preferred the sound of a jackhammer fighting a cat to any more plays of that song. 

“This song ends, right?” Carmelita whispered, clearly not wanting to interrupt the song. 

“Rather soon, actually.” 

“God damnit!” Carmelia groaned, hitting her head on the table. The song faded into What’s New Pussycat, the entire diner looked like they were about to make a molotov cocktail out of the supplies in the kitchen and throw it into the main seating area. 

The jukebox was eventually unplugged, causing the diner to practically sing in praise. Quigley was a little sad to see it end, but Carmelita was jumping onto the table. 

“Get off the table Carm! They're going to kick us out!” 

“God, I’d love it if they did!” 

“Fine, come down and I’ll get the bill.” 

“Sounds like a deal, pussycat!”

**Author's Note:**

> Hope it was good! Leave what you think in the comments, I love to read them.


End file.
